The Wounded
by The Neliel Tu
Summary: lazy title is lazy. lazy synopsis is also lazy. NnoiNel. Stuff happens, Nnoi saves Nel, the tables are turned, yada yada. oneshot...?


((_A/N: Fffff I've been on such a NnoiNel kick lately but I'm like oh so supah rusty and I have no idea what I just wrote. Is totes out of character, but whatever. Enjoy it anyway.))_

_Fuck you, Nelliel. Fuck you. You think you're so high and mighty because you stand so much higher than me, but you're not. You are no better than the dirt you walk upon. _

It was barely noon and already Nelliel found herself in a state of agitation. Her cool expression betrayed none of her feelings. His ears honed in on her soft, erratic breathing, a subtle sign that not all was well with the tercera.

"What's the matter, Nelliel? Scared?" Nnoitra leered down at her, and her hazel eyes narrowed as she forced her breathing to a normal pace. She was scandalized by his accusation, as if she could be scared of him! Her face revealed nothing, and it infuriated Nnoitra that she could be so calm and hollowlike.

"Why would you voice such foolish thoughts, Nnoitra?" Her voice was flat and even, again betraying no sign of emotion. He wanted to grip her throat and shake all of her pride and superiority away until she gasped for air and begged for mercy. She saw his anger gleaming in his violet eye, knew he loathed her, knew that all was not well and never would be.

For now, she could pretend. She could lift her chin and imagine herself in a position much greater than this. She could pretend and wish this all away but she knew that he would soon bring her back into reality. She could feel him stepping closer to her even before she dropped back down to her body, hazel eyes appraising him coldly.

"You fuckin' bitch, you know I'm fuckin' right." He growled, his eye narrow. She held her ground, desperately holding back her shivers as he grew closer to her. The wounds she'd barely managed to seal, just beneath her uniform, had lost too much blood during the night, and she was lightheaded. She was succumbing to fear she wanted to deny, but the closer he got, the more he realized how pale she was.

And as he got closer, the more visible her shaking became. She was beginning to lose the control she had taken years to perfect, and he could see it so clearly. "What the fuck..." He put a hand on her shoulder, feeling the tremors perfectly. "What's the matter with you?" He asked, but she didn't answer. Instead, she collapsed right into him, and he was forced to take her in his arms.

His eye widened and he pulled her closer to him, frowning at her limp form. Just what the hell was she trying to pull? He asked himself. But as he looked closer, he realized she definitely wasn't faking this. She had seriously fainted, and for reasons he could not understand. He would never understand what caused him to take her to her room, but he couldn't stop himself.

_Her clothes seemed to lift themselves off of their own accord, her bandages unraveling as if by magic, and suddenly she was safe and warm, no longer too cold and nauseous and shaking. She couldn't make out the face of her savior, could only see a tall, narrow blur. _

_ She wanted to reach out to him, to thank him, anything, but she couldn't move, couldn't even speak. She let herself remain still, let herself enjoy the caress of a new ointment, a new bandage to cover her wounds. There was no use, no use in rousing herself from the paralysis. _

Nelliel awoke with a start, her eyes wide, her breath coming in gasps. She looked around the room, seeing a figure slumped over in her bedside chair. She turned her head slowly, trying to make her eyes focus.

"...Nnoitra?" She asked softly, though she saw clearly it was he. His head jolted up suddenly, and she flinched. "Wh-what happened?"

"Tch." He slowly rose from the chair, leaning over her bed and pulling the covers down. "Ya obviously dunno how t'take care of yer own damn wounds." He grumbled, and Nelliel struggled to sit up. "Oy, stop that. You obviously lost too much fucking blood. What the fuck did you do, Nelliel?" He demanded. She sunk back into the pillows, frowning up at him.

"Is that really any of your business?" She asked as calmly as she could muster.

"I saved yer ass, but it's yer fuckin' call, I guess." He muttered, turning away from her.

"I...I don't really want to talk about it right now." She managed, her eyes shutting, long lashes resting against her cheeks. "I feel weak."

Suddenly, his hand was on her forehead, and her eyes were wide in shock. "Calm down, I ain't gonna fuckin' hurt ya." He would have never had qualms about taking out any other enemy in a weakened state, but Nelliel was different. If he was going to beat her, he wanted to do it while they were both on equal ground. Though he wanted to bring her to his level, he wanted to do it of his own volition and not through someone else's work.

Though he wouldn't mind taking help.

"Yer burnin' up and yer fuckin' pale." He told her, frowning. "Y'obviously need something to eat or drink. Just...hang on for a bit." He grumbled, stomping out of her room. She shut her eyes, desperately trying to calm her breathing as she tried to figure out why Nnoitra was taking care of her. And besides, what else _could _she do but hold on? She couldn't exactly move! She cursed herself for her weakness, cursed herself for allowing Nnoitra to stop her on her way to lunch.

Then, the door was creaking open, and she was on edge, her eyes wide as she watched it open to reveal Nnoitra with a cart, a tray of food atop it. He wheeled it to her bed, and she shut her eyes against a sudden wave of nausea.

"I'm not hungry." She mumbled, and he glared down at her. She practically wilted under his gaze, her eyes meeting his.

"I don't care. Yer gonna eat." He told her, arranging her pillows and helping her to sit up. She moaned weakly, her head rolling back against the pillows. "...pathetic. How did ya manage to get yourself so fucked up?"

"It's none of your concern, Nnoitra." Nelliel narrowed her eyes, fighting to be calm. He saw through her. He didn't understand why she had to keep up her appearance as a "warrior" but right now she was anything but. She was on his level, no matter what she could try to say or how she could try to act.

"Eat." He commanded, setting a tray on her lap. She stared at the food for a long moment, prompting Nnoitra to say "It isn't poisoned. If I was gonna kill ya, that ain't the way I'd fuckin' do it." He grumbled, and Nelliel sighed deeply.

She lifted up a shaky hand, beginning to eat slowly. The first few bites reminded her of her hunger, and she ate ravenously. Then, she drank the glass of water he'd brought her. She pushed the tray away and lay back.

"U—um. Nnoitra." She looked down, clearly embarrassed all of a sudden. He frowned, eying her warily. "I...I have to use the facilities." She told him hesitantly.

He glared for a long moment, his arms folded across his chest. "Yeah? Then get the fuck up and go."

She threw the covers off, pushing her legs to the side he wasn't on. She took a deep breath as she brought her feet to the floor, standing for a moment before crumpling to the floor. "Ah!" She cried out in pain, her face angled to the floor so that Nnoitra wouldn't see the tears of frustration building in her eyes.

If she could just calm herself down and try again...but he was already at her side, picking her up from the floor with strong arms, lifting her and carrying her to the bathroom.

"I ain't gonna watch ya go, can ya handle it from here?"

"Y-yes, Nnoitra...I'll call for you when I'm done." She mumbled, her face still cast down. He left her alone, shutting her bathroom door behind her. He sat at the edge of her bed while he waited, kneading his temples irritably. Just how had he gotten himself into this mess? Nelliel was a wreck. He had never seen her look so terrible, and though it should have delighted him, he felt horribly.

She could barely lift her own head, and he was beginning to wonder just how long her wounds had been open and just how much blood she'd really lost. She would never tell him, Nelliel's pride was greater than anyone he knew.

But...she was letting him take care of her. For reasons unknown, the great Nelliel Tu Odelschwank was allowing Nnoitra Gilga a level of trust no one but her fraccion had breached before. She wasn't exactly giving of it willingly, but the more he did, the more he proved himself in ways she'd never thought possible.

"Nnoitra! I'm done!" She called, and he sighed to himself, rising to pick her up and place her back in bed. She clung to his uniform more than she'd done on the way to the bathroom, her fingers still gripping the fabric even after he'd let her rest in the bed.

"Nelliel...what the fuck are you-"

She answered him by pulling his body closer, pressing his head to her bosom. "Stay." She said simply, her voice soft and faraway, weak and thin.

"...stay?" He was incredulous. And...what did she mean by stay?

"Stay." She let him lift his head to meet her eyes. For a long moment, she was silent, weighing words over and over again in her mind. "Sleep here tonight. I—I don't wish for anything to happen to me in this state."

"In that chair again? No fucking way, Nelliel." He pulled back, but her grip on his uniform was too tight.

"No. Here." She indicated the space beside her with a light jerk of her head. "I'm freezing, and the thermostat is broken. I need you." Her voice caught at the last words, for she didn't wish to speak them, but if she did, he would have to stay, wouldn't he?

He rolled his eye, backing away from her and turning as he began to loosen his uniform, stripping to just his underclothes. Nelliel shut her eyes, her cheeks beginning to glow a light pink. Nnoitra didn't fail to catch this when he turned back, but failed to realize his own cheeks matched hers.

Wordlessly, he crawled into the bed beside her, grumbling under his breath. Nelliel involuntarily pressed closer to him for warmth, unaware of what she was doing until she was actually pressed against him. Any other time, he would have pushed her away, but this—this was different.

She wasn't herself—she was almost tolerable. Her breathing had slowed considerably, and she was relaxed against him. He looked down at her, surprised to see a peaceful expression upon her face, a small smile gracing her lips. _Her lips which, before, had only spoken venomously at him. _

His arm circled her, unbidden, and he nearly cried foul at its mutiny. But already he was pulling her closer to feel her body shivering from cold and from blood loss. And he knew that things weren't at all well with the tercera, even more so than before. She was considerably weaker, and pathetic, just pathetic.

But he couldn't bear to push her away, and somewhere in the interim, he fell asleep, clutching the wounded Espada to his chest protectively.

_She leaned into his chest, smiling up into the violet eye, pushing his inky locks out of his face. "You know, you're really handsome...sometimes." She told him, her voice quiet. He only rolled his eye, looking away from her. _

_ "Whatever ya say, Nelliel." He muttered. She wanted to stay in this moment forever, but suddenly, he was shrinking, moving farther and farther away, and her hands couldn't reach him, and she couldn't even move. She tried to run after him, but her legs were made of jello, and she only fell every time she tried. _

_ She succumbed to helpless tears, though she rarely cried, reaching out for someone who was already gone. She wanted to reach for him, but now she couldn't even see him. _

Nelliel awoke with a violent jerk that even woke Nnoitra. Her eyes flew open and he rolled over, appraising her groggily.

"It ain't time t'get up already, is it?" He asked, his eye half lidded.

"N-no, I just...I had a bad dream, that's all." She yawned, looking down at the pillow. "It just...it woke me up."

"Oy, are you _crying?_" He asked suddenly, reaching forward to wipe a tear from her face.

"Ah!" Nelliel blushed helplessly, blinking rapidly as though to dispel anymore tears. "I..." She paused for a moment, frowning. "I cried in my dream. That's all. It's nothing."

"What the fuck were you dreamin' about?"

"Why do you even want to know?" Nelliel retorted defensively. He rolled his eye.

"Fuckin' tell me. Or I'll let Szayel take care of ya. Would ya like that, Nelliel?" He leered, and Nelliel cringed.

"Fine." She sighed deeply, her eyes shut. "It was about you. We—we were having a decent moment, but then you disappeared—ran away, and I couldn't get to you. So...I got a little frustrated." She didn't care to elaborate any further than that, it was already embarrassing enough.

"How fuckin' cute, Nelliel," He said, tweaking her chin in what could almost be construed as an affectionate gesture. She opened her eyes, realizing that his eye held no malice, and in fact, he looked rather pleasant at the current moment. She hesitantly lifted her hand to his face, brushing his hair out of his face.

"Mm, you know, you really _are _quite handsome." She mused, and he pulled back slightly in surprise.

"Che...you've just lost too much blood, Nelliel." He rolled his eye and shook his head.

"Maybe so, but that doesn't mean I'd lie to you." She shut her eyes, lowering her chin to her chest. He scoffed, but didn't pull away from her any farther. "Just...accept the compliment." Her sigh carried her words.

"Shut the fuck up and go back to sleep."

He didn't miss the faint smile that settled upon her lips as she drifted back to sleep. For the moment, all was right within the Espada's world. Nelliel was actually quite pleasant to look at while she slept, and Nnoitra didn't want to kill her for once.

Somehow, he doubted that would last for long.


End file.
